The Archangel's Gift
by Arsenic Kisses
Summary: The ArchAngel Uriel decides to help Christine and Erik discover their love for one another. However, his methods don't seem to be going over well.
1. The Archangel's Gold Box

Tis a new story. No one reads my stuff anymore. It's slightly depressing. Ahh well, I really like this story. It's a story I like writing.Enjoy and please Reveiw. It boosts my self esteem .

Disclaimer: I don't own Erik, Christine, or Uriel. I don't think you're allowed to claim God's Archangels, are you? Oh, well, I'm not religious, I don't know.

enjoy and review!

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Christine sat in front of her mirror, lightly stroking her hair with a soft brush. She hummed quietly to herself. It was something old. Something her father used to play on cold winter nights. Nights when Little Lotte found no way to calm herself for bed and shivered something fierce.

She was not humming in a gay manner, however. Her eyes were glazed and she stared past her cherubic reflection. The tune was hollow, instead of rich and full. Her mind was troubled.

_I knew what she was thinking of. Of course I did. It was my job to know. I sat atop her mirror, invisible, watching this sad child hum and think of her woe. I do not pity her. Not in the slightest. She is blinded by innocence and cannot see the love that she is given by the only man in the world that gives a jot about her. The Opera Ghost, Erik._

_He tries so hard to win her love._

_Or so it seems..._

_I've been watching this situation for a time now, in silence. At first I wanted no part of it. But, now here I am, sitting just waiting for the perfect moment to change their lives and make it all worth the struggle in the end._

_I might be reprimanded by God for this. In fact, it's definite. I am the Archangel Uriel. This isn't my normal area of expertise. In fact, this type of situation would normally call for a guardian angel, or something of that nature. But, being the Angel of Music and Prophecy, I see no wrong in handling this delicate case._

_I'll tell you now, my solution to this predicament is not the easiest one. In fact, it is designed to test the two. I wish to test their love. Does Erik truly love her, or just her voice? Does she love the man, or the angel? So, being the cruelest I will allow myself to be, I'm going to steal their voices._

_This will test his love for her, and her love for him._

Christine set her brush down with a small sigh. " Oh, What to do?"

" May I make a suggestion?" Cut in a disembodied voice. Christine looked up, eyes darting about the ceiling. Who was there?

" Erik?" She asked, having a feeling that she wasn't talking to her Angel.

" No, I'm sorry, I'm not your 'Angel of Music'. I am _the_ Angel of Music."

Christine's tiny fingers fiddled with the lace of her gown. " I see...What do you want from me?"

Uriel suddenly materialized, sitting with one leg crossed over the other on top of her mirror. She gasped, tripping over the stool as she backed away from the great Archangel. He smiled, using his hand as a pedestal for his chin.

" My god..." She murmured, standing up slowly.

"Don't take the Lords name in vain, Christine."

She nodded, gulping slightly. Uriel looked at the mirror on the wall of the dressing room. " If only he'd get here faster, I could get this part over with."

Christine wasn't listening to the muttering of the angel. She just stared at him in wonder. Uriel heard the shuffling of a cloak and the click of gentlemens' shoes from behind the mirror.

"He's here" the archangel murmured. Christine blinked, looking toward the mirror.

" Erik?" she called, running up to it. The mirror slid back and the masked figure stepped through it.

" Hello, my dearest Christine..." He stood an opposing shadow with a silken voice and cunning wit. She pointed toward Uriel, but Erik had already seen him.

" Who are you, may I ask?" Erik said cooly.

" Archangel Uriel, Angel of Music, Poetry, Repentance, and Prophecy. And you sir, are the Opera Ghost, Erik. Also known to some as the ' angel of music'. It appears we have something in common."

" Appearances are deceiving" the Ghost shot back, crossing his arms. The angel just smiled.

"So they are..." He jumped off the mirror, landing effortlessly on the plush carpeted floor. Christine hugged close to Erik of her own will as Uriel came to them. " I've come to fulfill a duty."

" What sort of duty?" Christine asked, glancing at Erik's masked face and then the angel.

" I have come to test love. More specifically, your love for on another."

" And how will you accomplish this?" Erik asked, placing a hand on Christine's shoulder.

" I wish to see if you, Monsieur, really love her, not just her voice." Uriel shifted his gaze " And if you, Mademoiselle, love Erik for himself, or the Angel. To accomplish this, I must take something you both value greatly in each other."

The Angel leaned forward, placing a hand on each of their throats. A glow appeared in both of his palms, turning into tiny blue flames. He produced a tiny metal box from his robes and placed the blue flames inside, sealing it with a lock.

" I have just taken possession of your admirable qualities in one another. Christine, you now possess no singing voice. Erik, you now cannot talk. You will both go to sleep now, and will wake up within Erik's house upon the lake." Erik's face screwed up in anger and Christine gasped, her hand coming to her mouth. With that they both fell asleep, and disappeared.

_I have done it. All I can do now is watch. Watch them and hope what I have done wasn't for the worst. I have to believe that._

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Ooooh, First chapter. It get's better, I wrote most of it recently. I just altered this part abit. I'll update very fast, I promise. i wrote the first five chapters, so..yeah . I acutally didn't plan on finishing this story when I wrote it.

Thinking that's weird,

Bella


	2. Vocal Theif

Bella here! Chapter two! Jump and dance for the joy!

A/N: It's now going to get more emotional. I know that's what you want. this one I think will get very dark. And the ending...will come to me through the lack of sleep or a sudden hemmorage of creative juice while I'm sharpening a pencil or somthing...

Disclaimer: Tis not mine...as always... When is it ever mine?

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Erik awoke with a jump. Christine's tiny frame lay next to him and he wiped the sweat forming on his face.

" _Mon Deiu"_ He thought, looking at her mass of curls and then his mask. His hand stroked her hair with unsure rigid movements.

_" Damn that Archangel. That bastard has no right to steal what is mine If I had a voice I would reprimand him."_

He got up stiffly, leaning over the side of his bed, his deformed face contorted in frustration.

" _You know, she loves you.."_ A voice resounded in his head. His brow furrowed and he looked around with solidified gold eyes.

" _You!__ "_ Erik shot angrily in his head.

" _Now, don't greet me so harshly. I'm just here to tell you I'm sorry it has to be this way. __But-but if I don't do this, your relationship will be in jeopardy. Fate has warned me of impending danger for you both if you do not realize your love for one another." _

Erik grit his teeth. _"So you stole our voices? It's a rather idiotic plan, in my opinion. How shall we discover feelings for one another? It all seems a bit pointless. It's much easier to discuss it with each other than taking such drastic measures." _

Uriel smiled knowingly. _" Ahh, Erik. You're just too harsh. You anger so easily and she is so young, you can't possibly work out a way to say I love you to one another." _

" _Are you proposing I can't express myself?" _

" _I'm not proposing anything. I'm simply stating. Now, do you remember what I have taken?" _

" _My voice, you thief!__"_

Uriel laughed_"Yes, that is right." _

" _Don't you laugh at me!__Never laugh at me!__I'm not a stupid upperclass man who wealth is solely based upon the mental prowess of his ancestors." _

" _Like Raoul?" _

He groaned in his head._" Must you bring up the boy?" _

" _Well he is an example, no?" _

Erik said nothing, looking toward his Persian music box, the monkeys cymbals luminescent in the dim candle lit room.

" _Ahh well. Remember, Christine cannot sing. She can, however, talk. In order for this 'curse' to be lifted from you both, you must recognize your true feeling for each other." _

" _And who will be judging us?" _

" _I shall." _

"_Ahhh well, beggars can't be choosers, I suppose."_ he said bitterly.

" _Well, she'll wake up soon. Erik, be honest with thy self, it will do you good. Don't become so stuck in your ways to not hear the emotions you possess. I'll be around."_

Erik frowned._" I bet you will!__ " _He shouted mentally, shaking his head afterward at his terrible comeback.

Just then, a little hand fell upon his shoulder. His body tensed and he quickly replaced the mask on his face.

" Erik, my angel, did we...?" Her voice sounded scared.

The ghost shook his head. _"Would it have been so bad if we had, Christine? Would you be repelled if I had nodded?" _

She neither sigh nor removed her hand from his shoulder. She merely came closer, pressing herself against his back, arms wrapping themselves about him.

He took in the moment, enjoying her warm touch upon his cold skin.

He got up quickly, leaving Christine in shock. " Erik.."

" Christine..don't" he mouthed. _" Don't treat me a fool.." _

She was puzzled. Why wasn't her angel talking? Then it dawned upon her.

" Oh, Poor Erik You can't talk, can you?" She squeaked, getting up from the bed and facing Erik's back with a pained expression.

He nodded sullenly and looked at her. She went to sing but nothing came out, just her hot breath upon his arm.

She covered her mouth, eyes as large as an owls. Erik turned away, hugging himself.

_"Must you punish her too? She's just a child. Why break her as well?" _

Christine let out another squeak, looking sick to her stomach. " My voice... is gone..."

Erik slammed his fist on a dusty volume, his eyes expressing his sympathy and pain for his beloved Christine.

She sunk to her knees, disbelief painted upon her face like stage makeup.

Erik crept over to her, getting on his knees and placing a hand on hers. She looked up, seeing Erik in a new light.

"Angel..." she breathed.

He took her hand in his and lead her to the piano. _"_

_ If I can't talk, I wonder if I can sing. Uriel, I know you can hear me. Grant me this request."_

He played the beginning measures, glancing at Christine's face as she watch his fingers dance across the black and white keys.

Taking a breath, he opened his mouth and willed his voice to emit music.

_**" Your eyes see but my shadow  
My heart is overflowing  
There's so much you could come to know  
Tenderly**_"

Her eyes went lucid with awe and admiration as he poured his soul out to her through his music.

He wasn't bewitching her intentionally, he just wanted his words heard.

The sweet melody rung through the cavernous dwelling, enveloping them both in the music.

As he sung Erik looked to the ceiling _" Uriel..."_ He said to the angel.

" _I know. Your welcome..." _

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Fin! for now of course. Ending it here would leave lots of messy loose ends. No one likes that. anyway, I'll update when my punishment allows.. I'm pusished..sadly... It's depressimg. But fear on in one mounth the updates will be more regular! Please keep telling me your thoughts. I value them deeply!

Bella!


	3. Masquerade

Heeeere's Bella...( that did not sound cool...)

A/N: chapter three! the joy! hope you like it please reveiw!

disclaimer: not mine...

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Christine bowed her head, absorbing the sensuous sound coming from Erik's throat. He stopped playing, seeing the tiny girl's serine expression.

He gently nudged her, smiling underneath the porcelain mask. Her chocolate brown eyes fluttered as she turned to look at him.

" Please, don't stop. I adore it when you play. Please."

Erik took in what the archangel had said. _" Do you, mademoiselle, love Erik for himself, or the Angel?"_

Erik's mind went off, deep thought blocking worldly matters.

"_Does she love me..or..does she love her Angel?_"

" Erik?..Erik." Christine said, shaking him lightly. Erik turned his gaze to her cherubic face.

" Erik, will you sing for me again?"

He shook his head and getting up from the piano left, the room.

Christine furrowed her brow, tiny non existent wrinkles crying for acknowledgment.

The Phantom was pacing his living room, ever so often glancing at the mantle clock with no reason for doing so.

He was frustrated.

"_Does she not love me? In her eyes, am I only an angel , here solely to guide her to 'true music'? Bah, all these questions. I'm so tired._"

He let his full body weight fall upon the couch, his legs spread apart and arms at his side in a careless gesture. He was tired.

The sleep that Uriel put him under did not help his health, it only made him drowsy.

Adjusting position, he sprawled out, his lengthy body too long for the tiny fashionable couches of the day.

Before long, he was dreaming and Christine came out looking for him.

" Erik?" she whispered, searching for his angular body near the bookshelf or one of the usual places he was found.

She walked to the middle of the room and turned her focus to the couch.

She was tempted to giggle, for his posture was one she would never have dreamed Erik would take.

He looked so at peace, she mused, lying there not worrying and fussing as he usually did. Creeping back to the bedroom, she returned with a blanket for her beloved Erik.

She tended to him like a mother, wrapping him with a coverlet and placing his arm, which was hanging off the side of the sofa, next to him.

Standing up, she felt as if she had forgotten to do something.

Her eyes caught the mask. Her little lips frowned, creating a pout.

" How can he breath underneath that?" She lightly scolded.

"_Do you, Mademoiselle, love Erik for himself, or the Angel?_"

He let out a sigh in his sleep.

" _Touch me,  
Trust me,  
Savor each sensation." _

She knelt beside him, observing his eyelashes.

" They're beautiful. So long and elegant. I never noticed before..."

Her hands, reached behind his head, lightly undoing the knot the held the mask so steadily in place.

" _Masquerade  
Paper faces on parade,  
Masquerade  
Hide your face so the world  
will never find you." _

" Why must you hide from me, from the world." She cooed.

Taking a breath she lightly removed the mask. She remembered it, his face.

It wasn't pleasant to look at, but it wasn't disturbing either. She lightly touch his malformed lips, cool beneath her fingertips.

He stirred slightly, brow moving in consciousness.

" Christine" he mouthed, falling back in sleeps gentle embrace.

She knew he would be furious if he saw she was looking at his face. The odd thing was, she didn't find it revolting.

Touching his cheek, caressing it, she gently removed his wig.

His skull, slightly visible beneath a thin layer of translucent flesh.

A passing thought irked her. What if his deformity caused him pain?

Would it hurt if she touched him? He didn't see affected at that moment, and yet, it bothered her.

She lightly ran her thin fingers over his head, stroking his little bit of blonde hair.

" Oh, how I wish you knew. I wish you understood how much you mean to me. If only you treated me as a lover and not as a child. I know only then can we truly express the way we feel for one another. If only that weren't so..."

She picked up the mask and the wig, placing them on the side table.

" I love you...but I'm so scared you think me only a child, clinging to you, afraid to grow up..."

She was tempted to go back to bed, but thought better of it.

Resting her head next to his, she fell asleep quickly, his hot breath a comfort upon her scalp.  
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end of part three! I always wanted to write something like that...reveiw pleeeese!

very desperate for feedback,

Bella


	4. Body Language

It's chapter 4!! Yay!

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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Erik awoke, faced with a mess of brown ringlets. He rubbed his eyes, feeling no mask upon his face. He glanced around nervously, looking for his shield of shame.

Finding it and his wig, he reached for it, the coverlet falling off his arm. He picked up the corner of the burgundy bedspread, looking at the face of his sleeping Christine.

" _She did it last night."_ came a familiar tenor.

" _She...She did?" _

" _She covered you up and took off your mask and wig. She didn't scream, and she certainly wasn't revolted. She was sitting there, caressing your face, concerned about hurting you and saddened by how you hide yourself from the world."_

Uriel's figure appeared upon the love seat, his body lounging in the crevice of the couch. Erik's deformed lips created a frown.

" _She wasn't scared? At all?" _

Uriel's thought._"Not that I recall. She also thinks your eyelashes are beautiful. She loves you, I know she does..." _

" _Don't be ridiculous, Uriel. She just pities me. She's a child and is afraid of what she doesn't comprehend." _

" _Why do you degrade her by calling her a child? All she wants is your love." _

" _It's lunacy, the way you speak!__ "_ He bellowed.

" _I'm not the lunatic. I'm not so blind as to let the tell tale signs of love pass me by. She's young, true, but not stupid." _

Erik absorbed the archangels words. He ran his fingers over his patch of blonde hair.

" _Just think about it, Erik." _

Nodding, Erik pulled his wig on and reached for his mask. The string on the back was untied.

He never untied it. He would normally just slip it on and off.

She did take it off. He touched his face, wondering what she felt as her tiny hands brushed his skin.

" _Uriel, how can she love me? I'm a cadaver from head to toe..." _

" _Ask yourself. Better yet, ask her." _

" _How? I don't have a voice to ask " _

" _Body language never failed before."_ Uriel stretched, yawning. _" Well, I'll be off. Remember Erik, trust her, and more than anything, trust yourself." _And with that, he vaporized.

Erik looked at the spot in which Uriel vanished. "_Body language?" _  
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Shortest chapter in exsistance, I know! Shame on me! I'll update soon!

Bella


	5. Translation

Chapter five! What a crap period between updates! what did I say to myself everytime I meant to update? " This story does Fuck all for you at the moment. Start a new one?" Yeah, that's what I said. And I did start a new one, so please check it out when I post it. but now I found some creativitiy and now this story has gained life again! enjoy!

Disclaimer: Nope, nope...not mine...sadly...

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Christine stirred about a quarter to five. Her rest had been a fruitful one and she glanced about with sleep heavy eyes. Erik was sitting on the love seat, reading a book and tapping his fingers upon his thigh to a unknown beat. She raised herself off the couch and drew the blanket about her shoulders. She looked at Erik, who's lighting eyes darted across the page, taking in information at an impossible rate.

" Erik?" She whispered, hoping her disturbance wouldn't be of any inconvenience to him. The last thing she wanted was unhappiness from anyone, especially Erik.

His eyes raised off the page, a sulfuric gleam setting them apart from the dim room. "_ How shall I convey my words through my actions?... think, Erik, think!"_ He closed the book, laying it beside him.

" I didn't mean to disturb you. You can keep reading." She said, pulling her calves under her. He shook his head, getting up and taking a place next to her. She tucked a loose curl behind her ear and smiled.

" You, um, you fell asleep last night out here. I didn't want to disturb you, so I just covered you up. I hope that's alright..." she said, nervously pushing her index fingers together as the rested in her lap.

" _You did so much more, my dear... that I know for certain..." _

He nodded, smiling.

She couldn't tell wether he was happy or saddened by her actions. This mis-communication was so frustrating.

" Erik, it's rather hard to tell if you are upset with me or not."

" _What is she implying? What should I do?" _He gestured toward the mask with puzzled intention behind it. Christine looked at him, her heart lunged forward as the barrier between them had only deepened from the loss of what they held so dear. She gave a tiny squeak as his touch brought her out of bottomless thought.

He drew his hand back, laying it at his side and staring off vacantly. "_This is a nightmare. What can I do? I don't know what she wants of me." _He draped a hand over his bare forehead, it's coloring of wax.

" _Body language..." _Echoed the memory of Uriel'swords. Erik's moved his gaze to Christine, her little face creasing in thought.

Christine heard rustling next to her and looked up. Erik was nestled in the crevice of the couch, mask-less, looking at her solemnly. She was taken aback at his sudden bold nature about his face.

" Erik... You... are alright with this?" She asked unsure, making note of each flexing muscle in his face. Even when still, his face was full of emotion. Emotion without intention. He gave a a nervous shrug and looked up at her like a child being scolded.

She inched closer to his stiffened body and lay down upon his chest. Erik gave a gasp. She walked her fingers up from his stomach and buried her hand in the velvet lapel of his suit. He smelled of French cologne. She giggled.

" Those girls know nothing, do they? All the little Ballet rats say that 'The Phantom smells of death!' Erik, you smell intoxicating to the senses."

Erik wrapped an arm around her, hugging her closer. Nothing could take this away from him. It was his moment. His beloved lying there, upon his chestIt was the moment of bliss he had been denied for only God know's how long.

" _I love you..." _He said in his mind.

Suddenly a cry came from the Archangel.

" _Erik!"_

" _What is it?"_

" _The Persian, Nadir, and the Ballet Mistress, Madame Giry, are rowing across the lake!"_

" _What?" _He asked again.

" _You heard me!"_

" _Just like you, Daroga, always dropping in inconveniently and uninvited."_

" _What are you going to do?"_

He thought a moment_. " Nothing. What ever happens, does."_

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_Yeh, I'm terribly and hopelessly romantic. But, I'm content with it. So, please reveiw! Please! I love the boost of confidence I get when I see messages like " Awww, that's cute! I love it!" or" you are the Goddess of Written Verse!!" _

_ok the last one was overblown, but you get my drift._

The self proclaimed Goddess of Written Verse,

Bella


	6. Silence is a Guady,Golden Beast

Bella says let there be chapter 6! OOOOH AND AHHHHHHH!!!! Yeah, I'm a fucktart. That's like poptart without the pop. Anyway, I wrote this at midnight a few sometimes ago and never posted it. I really don't see the point. Hardly anyone reads. Maybe I lost my spark.

Disclaimer: What's the point of these if we have established my lack of ownership?

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The angel's voice had a nervous quiver. " How are you to explain this situation? You have no voice, which is no thanks on my part"

" Body language." Erik said simply, walking toward the door to greet his guests.

The two were drawn close together, Nadir, the Persian in front taking command like the proper Daroga he was.

Madame Giry was behind his left shoulder, her motherly demeanor clashing with her ballet training in a droll manner as she stood.

Erik gave a civil bow, and glanced at their faces, crossing his arms over his chest.

" Erik, where is the girl?" demanded the Daroga in professional tones.

He gestured toward the couch. She gave a pleasant smile.

" Erik, what were you thinking, abducting her before a performance? Carlotta's niece, La Isabella went on in Christine's place!" the Madame said " You should have seen Carlotta's face. Ever since she lost her singing voice she's been pushing her nose even farther into Opera house business! I can't take much more of her and her narcissistic niece!"

Erik remembered the little tart. Her voice was two time worse then Carlotta's and she had three times the attitude.

" Please you must do something. The company is in jeopardy if you don't." The madame cried as the Persian stepped inside the house.

Christine's little face popped out from behind Erik. " We must do something then!"

She had spoken to soon.

" Oh, I had almost forgotten..." she smiled sadly, clutching Erik's arm. He gave her hand a light pat.

" Erik, why don't you speak to us?" Nadir asked, observing Erik's bookshelf as Madame Giry pondered the meaning behind Christine's words.

" Yes, Erik, why don't you say anything?" the older woman whispered.

" It's not that he won't...It that he can't"Christine replied. The two looked at him, his eyes cast to the side avoiding contact.

" You have become mute by choice?" asked the Persian. He knew his old friend. He was too stubborn and opinionated to give up the instrument he valued so dear.

" I never wished this!" He bit in his head and let it sway from side to side viciously.

" Erik, how did it happen?" Came the voice of Madame Giry. Christine looked at his face, searching for guidance like she always did when things were beyond her control. Erik raised his brow.

"Well?"

" No. If you tell, all will be lost and your voices will be mine forever."

" That's a bit much, if you don't mind my saying so, Uriel."

" I've already broken more than a few rules by doing this. If anyone should find out, Heaven and Hell would mold into one and create-"

" Earth?"

The angel sighed.

" No. Anarchy. Humans would never accept the tangible evidence that what they believe in is real and would create an upheaval of religion and world peace. This, in turn, would cause the two dictating supernatural bodies to combine involuntarily and send the world into a bloody revolution. "

" All that because they asked why I've gone mute. Uriel, you are over exaggerating things."

" No! Angels aren't supposed to exist! We are an illusion of religion, don't you see?"

" Not entirely, no." He paused, letting his thoughts arrange themselves. " What you're telling me is this: If I should tell this rather improbable tale, and they happened to tell others of this, the world would realize that what they believe in is a reality, seek it out in a thirst for power that they yearn to posses, and the ultimatum of Heaven, Hell and Earth would cause an apocalypse?"

The archangel replied that yes, his summation was correct and that it was impossible to tell them.

" You're a creative genius. Make up a lie." the archangel commented cooly.

" Yes! That's just great! Uriel,I demand our voices be returned to us! We love each other. We know we do! There is no point in you keeping what is rightfully ours if we know this to be true."

" Has she said it? Has she said I love you? Has she told you that what she wants most is to stay in your arms and kiss you for all time? Has she?"

" What are you, my friend or my enemy?"

" Perhaps a bit of both." Replied the archangel, hurt by the lack of faith that Erik had in him. Even more, the lack of trust.

Anger and hate involuntarily pooled in Erik's eyes as he gazed at Christine. He gripped her arms and pulled her to his chest, teardrops rapidly hitting her loose curls.

" Erik, what on Earth is wrong?" Madame Giry asked, looking on with the Persian in worry. The Phantom of the Opera lifted Christine's chin, her brown eyes looking at him in wonder. Reaching up, she brushed a tear from his eye and asked him what was the matter.

" Do you love me?" he mouthed slowly, looking at her with an intense gaze.

Her body tensed and she frowned. She didn't know what to say. She knew she loved him. She knew it with all of her heart. But, she knew that he felt she was only a girl. A blessed vestal virgin who doesn't know what the real world is like. A sheltered baby. Searching for words, she recalled what she had cooed to him only the night before.

" I love you...but I'm so scared you think me only a child, clinging to you, afraid to grow up..." She replied, squeezing his arms tightly.

" Come Madame, let us be off. This affair is not our own." the Daroga whispered.

" I agree. Shall we leave a note?"

The former Persian policeman thought and quickly agreed. Taking out a piece of parchment, he quietly walked over to Erik's desk and wrote down a note as Madame Giry looked over his shoulder, adding a comment or two. Then, the two slipped out, leaving the lovers alone.

" A child?" He inquired silently.

" Yes. You always degrade me, saying things like, ' You could never understand, you just a little girl, Christine.' By now she had broken her embrace with him and was staring at his lower lip, waiting for an answer.

" My dear," He quietly informed," You are a child. You are barely the age of 20."

" You see! Again, you mock me! And, I am only a child when compared to you! You are close to 50! You are considered an old man!" Her voice had reached the level of a screech, and she couldn't help but feel he would tell her to stop her foolish destruction of her voice. He did not, however. He simply stood stock still with his eyes blank and his mind musing over harsh words and foul truths. Truths that stung the nostrils with their metaphorical stench.

" This is true. I am, in fact, an older gentleman. But, just as I am old, you are young. We are many years apart. Perhaps, it is a tragedy I am not as young and hopeful as I once was."

Christine said nothing. She couldn't. Every utterance was another nail in the coffin that held their relationship. Another word, another slap of the hammer at the head of the nail.

" I'm sorry"

Slap.

" It was cruel of me to say such things."

Slap.

" I'm probably only making things worse by saying anything at all"

Slap, Slap, Slap.

The air around them crushed Christine as one would crush up a piece of parchment when they didn't favor it's contents. Her corset felt tighter and tighter with each breath and she felt as if she would faint.

" Erik-I can't- b-breathe-!" she panted, before falling into his quickly outstretched arms. Even in her state of rest, she was still breathing rigidly. Reaching down the back of her dress, he ripped at the strings that held her corset together. He sunk to the floor, one hand cradling her head, and the other tearing and shredding the cords.

" Breathe, breathe, BREATHE!"

He had not notice the sudden occurrence of his voice, only his concern for her safety. At long last, it had come undone and with a large gasp, she was breathing steadily again. Cradling her like a newborn, he just sat there upon the cavern floor, rocking her unconscious body.

" Forgive me, my darling. I was foolish."

Within her sleep, she had heard him.

" No, we were foolish" came her whisper.

And he could do nothing but agree.

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Ooooh! Did he finally regain his voice? Am I toying with you? maybe. evil giggle Ahh, fun fun fun

Flame and flatter me please!! I do enjoy it!,

Bella


	7. Knot Fatalis

oooh! New chapter. The reviws I have gotten lately make me feel real warm and fuzzy inside. I want to thank all of you. Without you, this story would rot on my desktop.

Disclaimer: My word, I only wish I owned the characters.

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Uriel's feet laced in a grapevine pattern as he paced. Fate's eyes remained calm as she wove the red cord of fate into the grand design upon her loom. He was twiddling his fingers and sighing audibly.

" Uriel, desist your pacing please. It's hard to concentrate when you are moving about so much." Her voice was effortlessly level and logical. That's who she was. Black hair bound into a long pony tail by gold cord framed her pale lithe face. Though outrageously gorgeous, she was one of the lesser beauties of Heaven.

" Fate, this whole affair has made me a new man. I'm nervous all the time and I can't stop watching them, even for an instant." He sat beside her and watched her thin fingers observe the threads.

" When I told you of this, I had only the slightest inkling you were observing them. I did not know you were going to interfere."

" Yes you did." He replied, looking at her face in slight contempt. Her finger ran over a knot and she gasped. Uriel jumped, holding his hand to his chest.

" Uriel, come and see this."

" It's rather ironic when you say such things."

His blind companion frowned and grabbed his hand, placing it over the knot. He moved his fingers over it, feeling it's massive size and complexity.

" Do you have any idea what that is?" She asked gravely, ruefully rubbing the balled up threads in her perfect tapestry.

" Not entirely, no."

" It's a knot in the threads of time. A screw up in the set pattern of life, if you will. I don't know if it has to do with them, Uriel. If it does, it is one major world altering event even I can't fix. He is going to tell someone. About you and the Golden box. It's all here." He hand moved across the woven design grandly and Uriel grabbed her shoulders.

" Fate, please, tell me you can change this?" He looked into her sightless eyes hopefully.

" I told you, I cannot." Her voice was definite and his body was weary .She placed her hands upon his face and felt his facial expression. Silently, she began picking at the knot methodically, trying to work it into something less than the catastrophe that in reality it was. He watched her fingers move the strings into a skull shape with pointed teeth, it's nose the tiny knot produced from her work on the larger.

" Did you fix it?" He asked, kneeling next to her.

" I've- I've done all I could possibly do. But, still..." Her eyes retained their blank calmness, though her voice was beyond level. He held her hands and pressed them to his face.

" Tell me, what is going to happen."

" If I had not lessened the knot, a minor apocalypse would have occurred, leaving all of Paris in ruin, and some of our greatest angels soulless drifting shadows. But, now that I have woven most of the knot out, the damage of this horrid event will be hardly a scratch upon the surface of time. Of course, it's not a pleasant scratch."

Turning away, she felt her way to her bed. Uriel followed her, his eyes beginning to show great fear and realization.

" Fate. Fate, tell me... What kind of scratch is it you have created?"

" Death, Uriel. Death. Three people will die." Her body fell upon the bed in a stupor, limbs carelessly laying about her.

" But-"

" Uriel, in exchange for over two thousand lives, I would say three is not a great sacrifice."

Savagely, he ripped her off of the bed and shook her.

" Who will die, Fate? Who will die?" Fate's hair came loose, curls falling down her back in a effortless fashion. She pushed him away, planting her feet and "looking" him in the eye.

" You listen to me. Life is full of sacrifice. Mortals sacrifice each other ever day for their own wants. The drunken male sacrifices a whore's medical safety to sate his animalistic and perverted pallet. The whore, in turn, uses that drunken male to fill her cup and buy her room when the dawn draws itself over the horizon. Life is give and take. If you want, you must sacrifice. Equivalent exchange."

Shoving his chest, she sat back at her loom and prodded the knot again.

" It was the best I could do. You need to understand that. You'd be a shadow if I didn't fix it."

" Erik will die, won't he? And Christine. But who is the third?"

" I did not say it was them, Uriel."

" You did not say it wasn't either. And I can only assume. Who will be the third?"

She said nothing. Picking up the red cord, she began to weave again. Uriel walked towards her chamber door in a silent, bubbling anger.

" Don't let them consume you, Uriel. It's a dangerous game you are playing."

He paused, like a lone actor in the proscenium, about to recite his Shakespearian soliloquy. She remained transfixed upon her tapestry as he gazed at her.

" One day, that rug will consume you."

" It already has. I'm just trying to protect the one I care deeply for."

" That is forbidden, and you know that." Her fingers stopped, arching mid-weave.

" Uriel, to be horribly honest, I could really care less. Feelings don't go away because they seem forbidden. Watching those two, you should have learned that by now."

" Their love his not forbidden."

" You are better off saying that his vast deformity is just a hallucination by all with eyes. Don't fool yourself."

" I am no fool."

" As long as you are aware, there is no need for me to say anymmore."

His face set in a deep frown, he went back to his own chamber to watch the string of atrocious events he was sure he had caused.

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I don't really put fight scenes in my stories. I think one will appear in this one though! oooh,Ii can't wait to write that! please keep reading! I love all of you!

Bella


	8. The Possession of Passion

A/N: Note children, this is a sex scene, despite it's lack of indepth details. it is a sex scene.

Disclaimer: Not mine

Enjoy!

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Erik cradled her between his outstretched legs upon the bed. She lay motionless, gazing without a trace of expression into the distance as his fingers twisted timidly between her curls.

He hummed softly, prodding her into a minuscule smile. Raising her head off his thigh, she looked into his eyes. Her silence was new, and he was savoring her mute gestures of affection gluttonously.

" Christine... I love you." Erik whispered reedily. His frail-looking fingers traced her lips and she moaned inaudibly. Back crooked like a question mark, Erik lowered his head and kissed her with unabashed passion.

" Oh, Erik...I love you too." Erik's eyes grew to enormous proportions.

She had said it before, but he assumed she was just trying to gain his respect as an adult.

Now, he could tell by the glimmer in her eye and the soft relaxed nature of her face. Her simple refusal to leave his embrace.

Christine rolled onto her back, laying her head on his thigh once more. She didn't remember the last time she was ever so close to a man or, as the case steadfastly stood, their lower anatomy.

Her delicate nails slide up the line of buttons on his shirt, clicking against them lightly. His chest began to heave faster and he watched in amazement.

Though his shirt and jacket came off relatively quickly, it's see like a eternity until her warm flesh touched his.

His muscles were taut and well formed underneath her caressing palms. He dared not try and undress her. He didn't want to make her uneasy in any way.

This motion on her part was far too pure to taint with his vulgar urges.

Little did he know that she was far from purity when is came to her intentions.

She wanted it.

His fire.

The fire she knew burned dormant in him. It was in embers and she believed she could kindle it. She could breathe life into the flame. Let him live in true completeness.

The dressing gown slid down her shoulders, crumpling in the crooks or her elbows. Her perky breasts rose and fell inside her loose corset.

Erik felt the desire within rise and he turned his gaze to a distant volume, it's dusty cover and yellowed pages an odd discomfort.

" Erik, look at me." She purred, pulling him back by his chin. He gulped loudly and she smiled.

She rolled her stockings down and threw them off the side of the bed.

Another gulp, less noticeable this time. She lay atop his chest, her chin between his pectoral muscles.

His mask cascaded to the floor as the waters of the timid river gurgle over the rocks. The wig followed without much delay and he bit his bloated lip in anticipation. She ran her fingers across the rugged terrain of his cheek.

" There you are." She cooed maternally, pleased to see his true face.

His pants seemed to disintegrate as he flipped on top of her. Her bare breasts lay in perfection upon her milky white torso as he began to kiss her. H

is hands were warm and brimming with vigorous life.

His body was the core of the Sun, blazing from thrust to thrust with other worldly power. She, meanwhile, was the submissive Moon, bowing and serving the Sun like a willing slave to her King.

Sweat trickled down their brows and Erik collapsed partially on top of Christine's panting frame.

Naked and entwined, they lay again in a motionless state, savoring those savage urges and sinful acts they had committed. T

hey could hardly give a damn about sin.

Not when what they share was so perfect.

As they laced their fingers together and closed their exhausted eyes, Erik couldn't help but shudder at the unreality of it all.

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I know...Your welcome... XD XD Ho! How presumptuous of me! Anyway, please reveiw!

Yours in all truth,

Bella


	9. The Divine Order

A/N:Ahhhh!!! It-Is-ALIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE! I brought it back! Truth be told, I didn't know what to do from the last chapter, but I finally found it! So, here it is!

Disclaimer: They are not mine .

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"They have had intercourse." She stated, smiling that gorgeous smile of hers. Uriel glared at her, royal enraged. Fate ran her fingers through her hair placidly as he brooded on the ottoman in the corner.

" You think it's funny don't you, tip toeing through the blasphemous situation I've created like a troublesome nymph. It's not funny, Fate. Your folly will not prove well for me."

" Hell hath not fury like that of a woman scorned. You remember that. Now leave me in peace, Uriel."

" Leave?! I'll do no such thing!" He grabbed her shoulders with enough force to stun an orge. His fingers were cold on her bare skin and she shuddered.

" Unhand me, Uriel."

" Stop meddling. Now I have to punish them!" His face contorted in pain. She turned about and faced him. Her blank eyes were forceful and horrified.

" Why?! What have they done?"

" Nothing! But you have meddled with true love and now they have to be punished three fold! I hope you're satisfied. I pray you smile to yourself in success! Good day!" The Angel stormed out of her bed chamber, slamming the oak doors with supernatural malice.

" I did not interfere! " cried she in vain. It was true, she had not meddled. She merely wove what she was destined to weave.

"Thorn in my side if I ever knew one! I've never been so insulted! They're human beings! Souls! Lives she's playing with! This better not be a spell she has cast. I don't think she knows how to conjure up a love charm…" A passing flock of cherubs snickered at his ranting. He snarled at them, seeming to become like Erik for an instant. Pressing his hands to his mouth and bowed his head in apology, running down the corridor faster than before.

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Erik dressed quietly, in efforts not to disturb his beloved. Her hair covered her bare breasts where the sheets of silk would not, chest rising as falling evenly. He had his trousers pulled up when Uriel came storming into the room with rancorous light of red and gold.

" Hello, Uriel." Erik spoke in greeting, bowing his head. Uriel let the tears trickle out of his eyes with slow sorrow. Strange,thought the Opera Ghost, how the tears of angels seemed to glimmer like the purest gold.

" What's wrong, Uriel? W-why do you cry? You should be happy. Christine and I, we are finally aware of how deep our love really is. Y-you should be rejoicing." The angel winced at the words that seemed to come from the puzzled child within the man.

" I'm sorry, but this was not of your doing…this act of love…" Uriel raised his arm and threw it down forcefully, signaling for something to enter.

" Not of my- Uriel, did you ever stop to think I could have earned her love without your watchful eye, your guiding hand,- Your vocal thievery! Tell me, can't I be loved just as everyone else is loved?!"

Uriel stopped, his hand signifying for whatever he had first beckoned to halt.

" Erik- I-I didn't think-" Erik charged forward with beastly rage. His hands were imposing claws of malice and his eyes- my God, how they burned with the intensity of sulfuric acid. It took all he possessed to not strangle the angel as he stood painfully close.

"That's right, _monsieur,_ you don't think! You just act! You gallivant into my life and demand, without permission, my voice. It is the only trace of beauty within me and you stole it! Not only that, but took away my darling Christine's singing voice! You left my beloved sparrow without her song. I would slaughter you if, _monsieur,_ were not immortal!"

Erik clenched his fists, flicked his fingers out, and tensed them closed again. The angel stood in shame. If he had only listened to Fate, or better yet, had not intervened, like he was supposed to do, then none of this would have happened.

" Uriel…" rang a thunderous voice from above. Erik glanced carelessly above him and then back at Uriel.

" Uriel, You have gone too far. You have meddled in the affairs of these mortals too personally and now I, Raguel, Archangel of Justice and Keeper of the Divine Order, am taking you for judgement by the remaining Archangels and the Almighty. Come with me now." Uriel uttered a whimper and Erik had noticed that he was holding back golden tears. Erik seemed to transform at that moment into a portrait of equanimity.

" May I say my peace to Erik before I go?"

" If the mortal wishes it."

" Erik?" The Phantom nodded without thought and the angel spoke. " My dear friend,- no…No…. _Monsieur_ Erik, I pledge my most sincere apologies for what I have done. There is no excuse for my meddling and I assure you, I will take the judgment of the council without protest, for my crimes against you and your beloved nightingale, Christine. I don't ask for forgiveness, just for you to know I am deeply apologetic."

" Uriel…" Erik whispered with obvious distress. The angel the disappeared then, the room growing drastically dim. Erik stood in disbelief, wondering the fate he had consigned the Angel to.

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Now pleeeease review. The reveiws sustain me... I'm a review vampire : K

Sincerly,

Bella


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